


hold me down, witcher

by kinneyb



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:54:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24500377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinneyb/pseuds/kinneyb
Summary: Geralt and Jaskier try to spice things up with a bit of roleplaying. (It doesn't work.)
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 9
Kudos: 180





	hold me down, witcher

**Author's Note:**

> just smth short i woke bc the idea popped into my head 
> 
> twitter: queermight / tumblr: korrmin

Jaskier entered the room, toeing off his shoes. It was an inn like any other, dusty and barely furnished; there was only a single bed in the middle of the room and a bedside table next to it. He stared at the bed for a moment before sighing heavily and walking over, lute thumping against his back.

The inn was in a small town, like so many other small towns he had been in. The people were kind enough, but only if you didn’t make too big of a ruckus. Despite Jaskier’s growing reputation, he still had his share of _embarrassing_ nights.

Like tonight. He still stunk of rotten tomatoes even hours after he had finished performing.

Sighing again, he shrugged off his bag and set it on the floor between his legs. He lazily strummed one of the cords. “Peasants,” he muttered. “Absolutely _no_ appreciation for good art.”

Jaskier strummed another cord, humming quietly. That was when he heard it: a creak from across the room. His finger stilled on the cords, stiffening. His eyes flickered to the source of the sound - a sole window - but it was too late; the advancing figure was close, pushing him back on the bed and crawling over him.

Eyes widening, he opened his mouth to scream, but a hand was slapped over it. A strong hand, rough and warm. A hand he knew very well.

The room was dark, no candles lit, but Jaskier could still see the outlines of his face.

A strong jaw, clenched. White hair that fell, hanging loosely, and tickled his cheeks. Yellow eyes, dark with rage. Jaskier swallowed, throat bobbing.

“I’m going to remove my hand,” he growled. “When I do, you better not scream.” He paused. “ _Understand?_ ”

Jaskier nodded, just a small jerk of his head. Geralt’s eyes narrowed as he slowly removed his hand. His heart pounded like crazy in his chest. He wondered if Geralt could hear it.

“ _Geralt_ ,” he breathed softly. He shifted, bed creaking. He could feel Geralt, half-hard, against his thigh. His mouth twitched, betraying him. “Is that your sword,” he continued, “are you just happy to see me?”

They stared at each other for a few long beats, silent and perfectly still, until _—_ laughter filled the air, abruptly breaking the tension. That wasn’t surprising, really. What was surprising was that it was Geralt’s laughter, deep and unabashed, as he rolled off Jaskier.

Jaskier blinked once before rolling onto his side, watching him. Geralt laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. He should’ve been more annoyed, but he couldn’t be, not with a sight like this. Geralt finally settled, wiping his eyes and turning to look at him.

“You fucking ruined it,” Jaskier said with a pout.

Geralt took a deep breath, body trembling with the last of his laughter. “ _You_ were the one who ruined it,” he said. “My sword? _Really?_ ”

Jaskier sniffed at the air. “Don’t blame me. You were supposed to hold me down and _take me_.”

He was silent for a moment. “I could still do that,” he pointed out with a small smirk.

Jaskier smacked his chest. “But the tension is gone,” he said, still pouting. But he wasn’t really upset; when he had suggested this, waggling his eyebrows, he knew what the outcome would probably end up being. _This_. Looking on, most would probably think their sex life _was_ like that. Wild and dangerous. Jaskier had expected it himself that first night they fell in bed together, but he had quickly been proven wrong.

Geralt was both a generous and surprisingly _gentle_ lover. Jaskier didn’t mind it, of course. He just thought they could try to spice things up.

And it was still a fun idea. In concept.

“You’re just a shite actor,” he said, wiggling closer and patting his chest. “You can’t help it, I know.”

Geralt rolled his eyes, sliding an arm under the bard’s body to tug him even closer, bodies pressing together. Jaskier could feel his erection, still prevalent, against his stomach. At least the night hadn’t been _totally_ ruined.


End file.
